The Golden Compass
The iron-bound gate of Oakhaven stood open, not to the sound of trumpets or the thunder of hooves, but to the silent, grinding shudder of the ancient boundary stones cracking along their mortar lines, a catastrophic failure that sent a cloud of white dust billowing into the pale morning air and scattering the crows that had roosted in the eaves of the keep. Captain Elias Thorne, forty years old...
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